Help
Sign In
RSS Feed
|
Joy of EnchantmentDryad said Oct 27, 2006, 3:25 AM: |
||
|
My daughters spent the first years of their lives in the High Country of Colorado, elevation 10,000 ft., “Two Miles High.” We lived on the edge of the National Forest and the Wilderness Area, our house surrounded by the trembling treasure of acres and acres of lodge poll pine and quaking aspen. The aspen leaves turn golden early that high in the mountains and for about two weeks it is so beautiful that it is totally impossible to do anything but walk in the woods quietly exalting. Then the leaves begin to drop - to dive and descend, dipping, dashing and dancing, floating, flying and filling the air with a wealth of wonder. The “fall” only lasts a few days, but they are days of utter enchantment.  A Walk in the Dryad Wood In what part of Elfland do you dwell? You would find me in the Dryad Wood. My tree is just turning it’s tremoring, trembling green leaves for wafer thin golden coins. In a few more weeks we will gift them as Autumn Alms to the North Wind and they will wax into spellbinding fay magic for a few radiant days. This is the thing: Each Aspen leaf that you see dancing the wind, whirling in the clear, cold, crystalline space between branch and ground, every single flying, fluttering, floating leaf will gift you a wish. This is the thing: You must capture it with your eyes while it is in the air and set your wish upon it before it touches ground. Sometimes, in the clear, thin air of the high country, the Aspen will rain down leaves in the hundreds, the thousands, the millions; suddenly and all at once, gilding the bright, hard wind with a flood of faery-gold. Often a mortal will stand there, confounded and confused beyond their wildest longings; they know that they could never wish that many wishes in a whole, wide life time. Sometimes, they go away without claiming a single grace, being so bewildered by the very vision of a billion blessings. A human heart, after all, is only so big. Could a human really dream that many dreams, in the brief, brilliant moment it takes a Dryad’s golden tears to fall? Could you? ©Edwina Peterson Cross  |
|||
Permalink
Print
Email
|
Re: Joy of EnchantmentJoy Bringer said Oct 27, 2006, 7:07 AM: |
||
|
Endearing, exquisite and enchanting. |
|||
|
Re: Joy of EnchantmentNicola said Oct 28, 2006, 10:29 PM: |
||
|
That is so beautiful, magical and enchanting… both the poem and your words before it! I love fall and I can so relate to your desciption of that feeling of utter enchantment. I go outside and feel immediately transported. I remember driving in the car several years ago down a quiet road, no cars but mine and the leaves began pouring down like a hard rain. It was a most amazing and wonderfully spine-tingling experience! Thanks for your gift in sharing! Love, Nicola |
|||
